


You're Everything

by MaddieandChimney



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieandChimney/pseuds/MaddieandChimney
Summary: After a rough call, Maddie wants nothing more than to go home and cry it out, until she sees Chimney and she realises, what she needs, only he can give her.
Relationships: Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Madney One-Shots





	You're Everything

  1. “Hey! Hey, calm down. Calm down, it’s just me.”



Maddie’s hands are still shaking when she wraps them around the coffee mug, feeling the heat against her palms as she stares ahead. It’s been nearly a year since his death, but there’s still some bad days and she’d definitely file this under ‘bad’. She pulls the mug a little closer to her, as though it’s the only thing keeping her grounded right then. She can still hear the woman on the other end of the phone, the terror in her voice, the screaming voice of a man slamming on a door in the background. She still feels the chill that ran down her spine as she listened, trying to tell the woman it would be okay, that help was on the way.

Maddie knows it doesn’t matter, she couldn’t remember the amount of times the police had been called to the house she shared with Doug – both by herself and neighbours – and she denied it every time. Before the police could even get there, despite the sobbing and the pleading Maddie had heard down the phone, she quickly changed her mind, told her it was a mistake, that it was fine. Maddie knew better. She was that woman once, right then, she felt like she still was.

The rest of her shift went by in a blur, working mostly on auto-pilot, trying to crack a smile when Josh made a joke, clinging onto the fact that soon she’d be home and she could forget the entire sordid day. With each passing call, she could feel the self-doubt bubbling up inside of her, could she even be a dispatcher if one domestic violence call sent her on a spiral? They couldn’t filter them out and protect her from the inevitable handful of times she had to hear the sound of silence, someone crying on the other end. She just… knew. She couldn’t explain it, but the moment she heard the terrified cries of someone trying to muffle the sound from whoever they were hiding from.

She’s not expecting Chimney to be at her apartment, suddenly regretting giving him the key, a thought she immediately hates herself for. She had told him he’d be welcome at any time, but for a second, seeing him standing in her kitchen, concentrating on carefully chopping an onion, causes her to pause. She doesn’t want him to see her break, she had been building up to this moment since she had gotten the call seven hours previously. “Wh-what are you doing here?” She frowns, shutting the door behind her before she places her bag on the kitchen counter.

She can see the hurt cross his face, but he quickly masks it, “I thought I’d surprise you, we’ve both got the day off tomorrow… thought you’d want to spend it together.” He’s staring at her, and she’s sure she’s not hiding it very well because he puts the knife down and steps towards her, only stopping when she takes a step back. “D-did… did I overstep? Did I do something wrong?”

“No-no,” She can feel that familiar tightening in her chest, as she shakes her head, “No, it’s… it’s nice, you’re sweet. I just, you know, it’s been a long day and I-I wasn’t expecting you to be here… but this is… this-“ He knows she’s trying to appease him, she can see the way he pauses as he chews down on his bottom lip, thinking, worrying that _he’s_ the problem.

“Do you want me to go?” The look on his face tells her that he doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving but half of her wants to nod her head and the other wants him to insist on staying. She knows him well enough though, that if she asks him to leave, no matter how worried he is, he’ll go.

“Just do what you want.” Is what comes out instead, leaving the decision to him because she doesn’t trust herself to like whatever choice she comes out with in the moment. When he moves towards her, she finds herself taking another step back, shaking her head, “Don’t touch me.” Her voice comes out as more of a whimper than she intended. The look on his face is one of pure concern, and she loves him, fighting internally between wanting to fall into his embrace and run to the bathroom to hide.

Despite her words, his hand reaches for hers and she finds herself jerking backwards, “I said don’t fucking touching me!” The harshness of her words are only depleted by the tears that start to fall down her cheeks, as her bottom lip trembles and she shakes her head.

Chimney gulps, “Hey, hey, calm down. Calm down, it’s just me, okay? Talk to me, please?” He’s practically begging her, but he’s not running out the door and she’s somehow simultaneously grateful and irritated because she wants to be alone but she also doesn’t want him to leave.

“I’m sorry, I just… rough call, rough day… rough life.”

“I can leave if you want me to but I-I don’t think you do?” He’s uncertain, but still takes another hesitant step towards her, relieved when this time, she doesn’t move away from him. “Tell me what you definitely need right now and I’ll do it, okay? Even if that’s leaving you which I really don’t want to do but… anything, Maddie. You say the word and I’ll do it.”

She’s watching him carefully, her resolve slowly breaking – he’s not Doug, she’s safe. She’s not the woman on the other end of the phone, crying for help one second, only to deny she ever asked for it the next. She escaped, and she’s loved and happy. He’s standing in front of her as she looks at him, and she can see the tears in his eyes, the way his hand ever so slightly trembles as he reaches for her, a hopeful look on his face. There’s not an ounce of evil in him, he’s pure, kind, honest and loving – the exact opposite to everything Doug was.

Finally, she takes his hand, “You.” She mumbles, not able to describe what she’s feeling right then as anything other than complete love for the man who had given her nothing but complete joy from the moment she met him. “Y-you. I need you.” She pulls on his hand, until he stumbles towards her, confused until her lips are against his. She drops his hand as her fingers move towards the buttons of his shirt, smiling despite her tears when his lips finally start to move against hers. He knows exactly what she needs right then, and she’s filled with overwhelming gratitude when his lips move from hers, down to her neck, his hands finding the buttons of her own shirt, making quick work of each button until he slides the material down her shoulders, shrugging his own shirt off at the same time.

Their lips find each other’s once again, before her hands move down his chest, taking in the feel of his toned muscles beneath her fingertips before she unbuttons his trousers, pulling them down just enough so he can kick them off the rest of the way. The tears are soon forgotten, as she pushes him backwards until the back of his knees hit the couch and he allows himself to fall backward, pulling her down with him. She loves how he knows what she needs right then, giving her complete control. This definitely isn’t what she pictured on the drive home, but her hands are moving down to pull on his boxers until he gets the hint, shuffling his hips up so he can get rid of the opposing material, kicking them somewhere across the room as quickly as he can.

She only pulls away to catch her breath, her forehead pressing against his as her chest rapidly rises and falls, capturing his lips once more the moment her breathing is calm enough. Digging her nails into his chest, Maddie pouts when he pulls back to moan her name, taking the opportunity to move away, hating when her body isn’t pressed against his as she stands up to wiggle out of her own pants as quickly as possible, wasting no time in climbing back onto his lap the moment there’s nothing between them. She’s never wanted anything as badly as she wants him right then, taking his bottom lip between her teeth, enjoying every sound that falls from his throat. It’s only when the words “I love you,” falls from his lips that she adjusts her position ever so slightly, sliding herself on top of him with a moan.

Her hands move to his shoulders, bracing herself as she rocks herself against him, “Howie,” His name falls from her lips with such ease, her lips hovering over his when he tilts his head up, her hips moving faster with each passing second. With one hand bracing onto his shoulder for support, her other hand moves to his cheek, before she crashes their mouths together once more, her tongue slipping easily between his parted lips. She doesn’t think it’s possible to love him anymore than she already does, but he’s giving her the complete control she didn’t even know she needed right then. His own hips remaining still, the tightening of his hands on her back being the only indication of how hard he was trying right then not to meet her rhythm.

She’s close, and when he tenses beneath her, she knows he is, too. His lips move messily against her neck, resting on her shoulder and he moans her name several times causing her to increase the pace in response, clenching around him moments later as she gasps out his name. It’s all the invitation he needs to quickly follow her, his lips biting down on her shoulder as he groans, his hips uncontrollably jutting up for the first time, his grip tightening for just a second until their lips find each other’s once more, sloppy and lazy, trying to catch their breath but still not able to resist the urge to kiss.

It’s only when she catches her breath that the tears start to fall again, pulling back ever so slightly to just take him in. Her fingers graze along his cheekbone, “Thank you.” She eventually whispers, smiling despite the fact she’s also a crying mess, “You’re… everything.”

There’s no judgement in his eyes, brushing her hair behind her ears, he’s concerned but he doesn’t question her. A comfortable silence falls between them as her head moves to the crook of his neck, closing her eyes as she sniffs, his hand moving up and down her spine as her fingers run up and down the back of his neck, not able to stop the way her lips pepper soft kisses against his skin as she does so, her voice content when she speaks “… everything and so much more.”


End file.
